My Brother Darkness
by Vegetaswriter
Summary: In all honesty its a short angst one-shot, and it was written at 1am while intoxicated.


**Please, this is dark, not very sexual. Hints of past suicidal attempts & thoughts will not be exactly well written, due to the fact I am heavily drinking at 1am. Also I'm using Vegeta and fanfiction as an escape-goat for my own sake of mind. **

**My Brother Darkness **

If I acknowledged, what I know now, I wouldn't be sitting here. The dim light of the screen highlights this sad lonely man, a bottle of Ramazzotti Black my only company as the gloomy music plays. It's deep down, that hurt to which you can't give a proper name, the sickening lump weighing you down. Funny how just a simple sentence could change the complete of the day. Like the icing on a cake to which you've never had the chance to enjoy as it was snatched from your very finger tips.

I know this place so well, like a brother really, always there, just waiting for me to sit at the table where he awaits ever so piteously. He holds my hand and lets me seep just a little more into his darkness, that bleak swirl of black and grey and you forget the joys of the white scenic backdrop.

It's easier ya' know. Easier to slip into it oppose to joy. The dark I know, the dark had adopted me into its embrace for many years. Years of physical, sexual and emotional abuse, you know obscurity by name, you know the bleakness in which surrounds your very being spiraling into disturbing thoughts, however, to people like us, those thoughts are like our mothers.

She embraces us in her motherly arms and lets us stew in our shadows. She encourages us to see and love our cousins. Oh the temptation they bring, so many of them, yes, beautiful and deadly, the temptation become so delightful to us. Only two has seduced me so, Razor with his polished quick teeth, slicing through the skin. Oh he feels divine. Oh, how can I ever forget my dearest substance, oh she can come in many forms and each one is heaven on my tongue and bliss in the veins.

Tonight of all nights, I spend time with my brother and my dear sweet substance, tonight we drink and think, tonight we remember and never forget the days of long ago and some so very recent. It tickles the brain and kicks the groin, each damn memory comes wailing back like a new born babe wanting the milk from their mother's teat. Fuck off, I try to say each time, truly, but my brother will always slid his hand over my clench fist until it unwinds into failure, accepting defeat the only way I can. Substance, she slithers her cool burning liquid down my throat, causing a fire deep in my guts. I welcome her, as I always do.

Funny really, and I cannot help but scoff in my glass, I see these things and emotions as family, recognizes them as such. But they have been with me for a very long time, how could I not?

"_Sometimes, I don't think you're worth the effort I put into you." _

That simple sentence brought me back here. Back with the family which adores me. That simple little sentence hit me harder than any punch ever could. I try damnit, I try. I rip my heart out to show you, show you how much I care… how much I love. But he wants more, deserves more than a broken husk like me can ever give. But I'm not good enough…

Showing or expressing emotions was never my strong point. Reserved and silent, I hide the pieces of insecurity and my lack of self reassurance with ego and boasting. I'm an amazing actor in my own rite, I smile on cue and laugh when appropriate, and meanwhile deep inside my mind criticizes me for each second.

I just dive into everything, be it fighting or my self obsessed training. It's a need to prefect myself, when I am the most flawed being I know. Yet, people look up to me! Ha! Me!? Really, they must be desperate… and what does that say to my lovers, oh yes, they must be just as desperate.

I lie… what they see is a front and they like it, want to emulate it, be it…

Sorry bastards. They don't understand, what made me, me. This sad husk of a man.

I was touched and played with at such a young age, an age where one should only think about toys. For myself, at that age I should think only of the throne to which one day I would reside. No, I had to concern myself each and every damn day of when that white skinned monster would pop out and touch the innocence inside me, taint me, and destroy my young mind with sickening acts.

Hello, substance. Goodbye, lovely. Don't worry sweetheart, I'll fill my glass with more of your sweet taste.

Ah yes, where was I?

Violence, all I knew was violence. Be praised one moment for a job well done, then smacked around with a heavy fist or, just for fun, a heavy object connecting with my head, making blood blind my eyes, all for minor mistakes on said job, or, hell, just for the fun of watching the young one curl into a ball in a mess of blood and tears.

I cannot help but be reminded of each moment by my brother. He thinks they are fun, and my cousins' waits for me to call upon them, once again, must be jealous of the alluring beauty of substance.

Sadly, I can accept the rapes, and abuse, it's the words that cut the deepest. Their words haunt me with each kick to the ground. Every time I taste the bitter taste of defeat their words come scratching back laughing in their malicious cackles and I am reminded how worthless I truly am…

"_Sometimes, I don't think you're worth the effort I put into you." _

This, this is new, and it cuts and twists the heart… I wasn't in the wrong… and these words, spoken to me by a man I care so deeply for. His words make my eyes sting and welcome back the family I wish to distance myself from. Yet, here I am tonight as he sleeps every so soundly, I sit here in the darkness of the room, the screen my only light, and I am reminded of my cousins.

Kakarot, that low born bastard, he made me love him, tore away the walls I kept so close, claustrophobic. And now, oh now, the bastard sleeps…

I was never open with anything but arrogance and bitterness, and he made me love him. Held my hand as if I was a child taking their first steps in strange waters, which is the truest statement I could have ever make. Yes, the frustrations' come into play, the miss communication and lack of opening up. But I was always there, ready to smile and kiss his lips and tell him he means the most to me.

It was never enough…

He knew going in I wasn't some wallflower ready to be courted and seduced like a princess awaiting her prince charming. No, I was never those things. I was a broken Prince, and he knew this. Broken and abused like a bargain toy bought from a thrift store. My scars which litter my body are the marker streaks and the dents are the parts which are chipped away, skin tone dull and eyes empty. Yet, he wanted me, and I loved him. Gave him all I could. But it wasn't enough.

He wanted more.

Needed more.

And it is out of my power to do so.

On a night so special to me, I asked with such a quiet hopeful voice for him to give me what I wanted. He scoffs and ignores me for sometime, until he turns.

"This is a special night for me, and I wish to feel, special." I say.

He thinks, as I do now, in the pregnant pause, and he says. "If you acted the way you're suppose to, then I'll be what you want."

"No act, Kakarot. I…love you." I reach out to touch his arm, and he yanks it away from my touch, as if I was infected. I try once again, pushing all my boundaries, swallowing all my pride, I lean in and whisper. "Kakarot, love me."

"_Sometimes, I don't think you're worth the effort I put into you." _

Out of no-where his words cut deep, swelling my tongue and killing my heart and like the coward I am, I ran. Trying my best to outrun his words and leave them behind. But they'll never leave me. I am a shell for more abuse, and I will pour them into my dear cousin substance, drink them down and never forget them.

I guess these seems like nothing to you, an over reaction of words and emotions. But those whom know my family understand. I am dark inside, nothing good resides there and each dark moment of fear and doubt, failure and loss, brings us right back to our families. Tonight I wallow and tomorrow I'll smile for the people; as if nothing ever happened.


End file.
